


I Dare You

by rottenpepper



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fred Weasley Lives, Fremione - Freeform, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, fred x hermione, marriage law, ron weasley - Freeform, weasley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottenpepper/pseuds/rottenpepper
Summary: Hermione finds herself working at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, spending more time than ever with Fred. She never expected life after the war to feel normal, but she didn't quite expect this either. When the Ministry enacts a marriage law, Fred and Hermione lean on one another to deal with their spouses-to-be and find a little more than just comfort. WIP, multi-chapter, Fremione
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

"Okay now, alright, everyone leave him be! You all heard the healers, I don't think a room of people is what they meant by 'relax and stay on bed rest'!" Molly began ushering as many people as she could reach towards the door. She saw George remain stationary in his seat next to Fred's bed and gave him a slightly disapproving look, but said nothing.

She knew even if she tried, she wouldn't be able to convince either of the twins that it would be best for George to leave Fred's side any time in the near future. There were a few grumbles from the group, but nobody was willing to argue with Molly. Besides, they all knew she was right, whether or not they cared to admit it. Fred was fast asleep anyway, and they'd have plenty of time to revel in his recovery over the course of the next few weeks as he stayed in the Burrow until Molly felt comfortable enough to release him.

"Hey, Hermione, wait one second," George called quietly, standing up from the chair next to Fred's bed. Hermione has been just about to shut the door to the twin's old bedroom, but opened it back up just enough to peer inside once more.

"Hm?" she asked, her brows slightly furrowed in confusion and curiosity about what he could want from her.

George walked across the room and stepped out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. "I was just wondering what your plans are now that...well, now that things are going to go back to whatever normal means these days," he said with a small smile, his eyes fixed on the staircase in front of them. It seemed as though George hadn't made eye contact with anyone except Fred over the past few days. His usual cheery demeanor was subdued, not completely absent, but definitely suffering without his twin to encourage him.

"I overheard Harry and Ron talking about this act the ministry is putting out, Special Service to the Wizarding World or something. I guess the ministry decided surviving a war is enough to warrant Auror training even without seven years of Hogwarts. I didn't hear them say you'd be joining them though," he finished, raising an eyebrow.

"Er...well, that's because I'm not," Hermione said, wondering what difference it made to George whether she was going to train as an auror or not.

"I knew it, you'd never miss the chance to go back to Hogwarts for another year. Can't understand it myself, but at least Fred owes me 5 galleons now," he said with a grin, finally meeting Hermione's eyes.

"I'm not doing that either," she said, a bit embarrassed, as her cheeks flushed red. She had been afraid that people would judge her choice without understanding why she had to reject both Hogwarts and the Ministry for now. The brightest witch of her age doing nothing after the war?

"Oh!" George said, making no attempt to hide the surprise in his voice. "Er...what are your plans then?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'm going to stay here. Your mother has already offered up Ginny's room to me, and I'm going to try to find something part time in Diagon Alley to take care of myself while I..." she felt a lump in her throat start to form. "I'm going to find my parents. I have to find them before I do anything else. Merlin knows if I'll even be able to reverse the charm I put on them, especially since it's been so long now and you know how those kinds of charms strengthen over time, and even if I can reverse it, will they be able to forgive me for what I did? And what if I can't find them to begin with? What if something's happened to them since the last time I saw them? What if-"

"Hermione...it'll be okay," George murmured, cutting her off and grabbing her by the shoulders. "You're Hermione Granger. However difficult it is, you'll figure it out. Now take a breath for me." His voice was soothing and calm. She didn't realize the tears she was trying so desperately to hold back had actually begun to form and slip down her cheeks. She followed his instruction and took a deep breath in, wiping her face quickly. She was suddenly aware of the voices of the rest of the Weasley family downstairs, causing the blush to return to her face once more. She wondered briefly whether anyone had noticed that she didn't come back downstairs with them.

"Let's go back in," George said after scanning Hermione's face one more time, as if to make sure she was okay for the moment. He pulled the bedroom door quickly back open and guided Hermione inside before she could respond.

"Thank you," she mumbled, standing awkwardly near the doorframe. She couldn't remember a time when she had ever been alone with Fred and George before. George has reclaimed his seat next to Fred, leaving his back to Hermione so he could face his twin.

"I told him I'd have his back, you know," George said quietly. "I'd be right by his side the entire time, and he promised me the same. But somehow I got caught up with Lee fighting Yaxley, the Death Eater. By the time I realized he wasn't next to me anymore, the wall had already fallen on him." Hermione's breath caught in her throat and her stomach twisted thinking about that day. She didn't know what to say. "Thankfully," George continued before Hermione could come up with any response at all, "I was the one who found him too. Thought he was dead right then and there. There was no way anyone could have survived that. But he did. And I'll never understand how that happened," he said. At that moment, Fred's eyelids began to flutter as if he was waking up, but he remained still after a moment. "I'm telling you this, Hermione," he turned and looked up at her as he said her name. "Because sometimes, the impossible isn't as impossible as it seems. You'll find your parents, I'm sure of it."

"Thank you George," she whispered with a teary smile. She really did appreciate his words. He was the first person other than Ron, Harry, and Mrs. Weasley that she'd told her plans for the next year. She was suddenly filled with relief that at least if Ron and Harry were always busy at the Ministry and Ginny at Hogwarts, she'd still have the twins around.

"Oh, c'mon now, I didn't want to make you cry," he said, laughing a little. He suddenly sat up a bit straighter, and looked back and forth from Fred to Hermione, the smile on his face growing just slightly. He shook off the somber mood they'd created, feeling uncomfortable with the vulnerability he hadn't shared with anyone except Fred. "I've just had a brilliant idea, and before you say anything!...you aren't allowed to say no."

"You said you wanted something just part time! Just to gather a few galleons and get your mind off things, right?"

"Er...yes...but I didn't mean for you to hire me at the shop! You haven't even consulted with Fred, he's supposed to be your partner, isn't he? What if he's completely opposed to the idea of having me work there?"

George pretended to consider this for half a second. "Mm, yup, there's no way he'll disagree. In fact, I think he'll find it a right laugh that we've got perfect prefect Hermione Granger working in the shop. If that doesn't increase our traffic at the very least I don't know what will! You honestly think I don't already know what his reaction will be? Hermione, I'm disappointed in you."

Hermione rolled her eyes, glancing briefly at the redhead lying quietly in bed beside them and gasped quietly. George spun around so quickly it was almost as though he'd apparated just to face a different direction.

"Morning."

"Fred!" Hermione practically yelped. She felt a wave of relief wash over her to see he was finally awake. He'd opened his eyes a few times in St. Mungo's, but the healers couldn't tell them when he'd actually be able to stay conscious for more than a couple hours at a time. It was a waiting game every time Fred fell back asleep to see when the next time they'd get to speak to him was. George, too, was grinning, clearly in an improved mood now that his partner in crime was back in action for the time being.

"He's right you know," Fred whispered, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Did you forget we have the whole twin telepathy thing going on? Blimey, makes me wish you were in our year just so you could have seen the rise we used to get out of Trelawney, pretending we could honestly read each other's minds." He grinned so big you'd have no idea he was still healing from some of the most brutal injuries the healers at St. Mungo's had seen following the Battle at Hogwarts. Hermione felt as though a weight she didn't realize was there had been lifted off her shoulders with each word he said. He was still covered in bandages and bruises, dark circles under his eyes, but at least he looked mostly human and intact again. She didn't think she'd ever be able to get the image of Fred on the battlefield out of her mind.

"I don't know…" Hermione said, trying to focus back on the conversation at hand.

"You'd be doing us a huge favor Hermione," George said after a moment. He, too, looked like he was trying to shove memories of the battle out of his mind.

"Plus," Fred interjected again, "I think it's obvious I won't be back in the shop for a bit. You're one of the few people we can trust enough to not only get the products right, but that we trust in general too. And you're much prettier than George or I. Well...prettier than George at least. You'll be able to sell the Wonder Witch line much easier than we can," he grinned. George picked up a pillow to throw at him but seemed to think better of it at the last second.

Hermione felt her cheeks reddening once again. They were right, she knew, and it would be easier to start a job with bosses who wouldn't try to prod and interrogate her about Harry and everything that had happened over the last year. "Okay," she said with a sense of finality. "I'll do it." She grinned, feeling as though she had a bit of a sense of direction now. She still had to figure out where to begin on finding her parents, but at least she had a job to fill part of her time.

The door swung open just as Fred was opening his mouth to express his excitement, causing all three of them to jump as it slammed against the wall with a loud bang. Mrs. Weasley stood in the doorframe, her brows furrowed in frustration, but a smile on her lips. She looked flustered but was trying quite unsuccessfully to hide it.

"Fred, dear, I'm so glad to see you awake," she said, the relief momentarily taking over the frustration. "George, would you be a peach and apparate your brother downstairs to the kitchen with us? We've just gotten some news from the Ministry, and I'd like everyone together for it. Yes, Hermione, you too, though I figured you and I could just walk back down together, normally I would make the twins as well but I'd say Fred is in a special circumstance…" Mrs. Weasley turned back towards the stairs. "Now would be preferable," she added when none of the three budged.

"Right, I'll see you downstairs boys," Hermioned squeaked, unsure of what this news could possibly be. Mrs. Weasley had given no indication of whether it was good or bad. Hermione felt her stomach twist into knots as she followed down the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ow, George, couldn't have gone for a softer landing, eh?" Fred said as the twins appeared in the kitchen. He rubbed his still bandaged ribs.

"Sorry Freddie, wasn't too comfortable for me either, to be honest." George stood up, extending a hand to Fred and helping him up to the table. Everyone else had already taken a seat in silence, the uneasy tension of the situation filling the room. Mrs. Weasley was the only one still standing, her hands full of purple envelopes. The Ministry had had to send two owls to deliver them all.

"Ginny, this one's got your name...Harry...Ron...Hermione, dear, here's yours. Fred...and George," Molly spoke in a quiet voice as she passed the envelopes around the table. "Oh, I wish Charlie were here already, I'll hold on to his for now. Alright, who first? Or should you all go together? I'm sure they're not too different seeing as they all arrived on the same day..."

Ron was already tearing his open. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" His face melted from a look of impatience to one of shock as he unfolded the letter inside and skimmed over the words on the page.

"Well, what is it?" Harry quipped, having noticed Ron's expression. Ron shook his head urgently but said nothing, his eyes still glued to the letter.

"Alright then," Harry grumbled at Ron's lack of response, tearing his own letter open. Hermione was too scared to look, deciding to wait until someone else finally spoke rather than see for herself.

Fred and George simultaneously began opening theirs. Ginny looked at Hermione with an apprehensive look, but shrugged and began to break the seal on her own letter as well. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion as everyone's faces began to match Ron's.

"Oh, would one of you please care to fill in your poor mother!" Molly shrieked.

"Marriage Act...?" Ginny breathed, her voice dripping with panic and confusion. Hermione felt her stomach drop. She looked around the room at everyone, all of them sharing the same expression. She gripped the letter in her hands so tightly her knuckles began to turn white. She was frozen.

George was the first to relax, smiling just a little bit as if he was beginning to accept the contents of the letter. He lowered the parchment and looked around at everyone else. "S'not so bad, is it? I'll be marrying Verity! Beautiful witch, obviously, and we get along well enough in the shop."

Ron was the next to snap out of his trance, though he didn't seem quiet as contended as George. "Luna. Looney Lovegood," was all he said. Harry shot him a look at the nickname, but said nothing.

Mrs. Weasley was pacing around the kitchen now. She'd snatched the letter from George's hands, her eyes scanning the words so fast she could hardly be comprehending it. She threw the letter down onto the table. "I wish I'd waited for your father to get home, if I'd know this was what the letters were I would have..." she trailed off. She turned, addressing Ginny now. "And yours?"

"Harry," she said, her voice even and calm, though her hands were shaking. Harry grinned and reached across the table to hold Ginny's hand, nodding to confirm his said the same.

"That just leaves the two of you," Molly said. Hermione's mind was racing...

"Go on then," Fred said, nodding to Hermione. She couldn't read the expression on his face. He looked like he was in pain-but in his case, it was most likely a combination of real pain and a response to whatever his letter contained.

Hermione broke the seal of her letter, taking care to unfold the parchment slowly and deliberately. She took a deep breath, unsure of what to expect. She couldn't think of one person who's name she would be overjoyed to see on the paper, but she could think of plenty that would be an absolute nightmare.

Hermione Jean Granger,

Following the events of The Second Wizarding War and the defeat of Lord Voldemort, the wizarding population has decreased by an amount deemed unsafe for continued Magical population regeneration. Therefore, the Ministry of Magic has enacted the Marriage Act of 1537, which states the following:

In an instance where the future of Wizard-kind is damaged to the point of near extinction, the Ministry is allowed the power to assign betrothals to

a. preserve the secrecy of the wizarding world

b. avoid prevalence of one blood type over another, and

c. increase the overall population of Wizards in a given area.

These betrothals are legally binding, but can be appealed. Appeals will be considered by a board of Ministry officials on a case-by case basis.

Your assigned betrothal is : CORMAC MCLAGGEN

Please contact your betrothed within the span of one week from your receipt of this letter."

Hermione felt the letter slip from her hands and flit softly down to the floor.

"Well? Spit it out," Ron grumbled.

"Cormac." She had expected her voice to tremble, but it sounded strong as she spoke the name.

"McLaggen?" Harry asked, as if there was another Cormac they might have gotten confused with. Hermione ignored him.

"Fred?" she turned her attention to the last of them who hadn't revealed his future spouse, not wanting to discuss hers in the slightest. She hoped this diversion would be enough to avoid talking about her own situation.

"Lavender Brown." Fred seemed just as unhappy with his assignment as Hermione felt.

Nobody spoke for a moment until George let out a howl of laughter. "Guess we'll just start calling you Freddiekins then?"

…...

After the initial shock had worn off and everyone began to accept the reality of what was happening, George apparated back to the shop to tell Verity the news, Harry and Ginny had disappeared somewhere in the Burrow, and Ron was off visiting with Xenophilius and Luna, having resigned to his fate-it could be worse, he'd said, glancing at both Fred and Hermione with a pitiful look in his eyes.

Hermione, however, chose to remain at the Burrow. She had no desire to spend time with Cormac and had decided to wait for him to reach out to her before she accepted the inevitable. Likewise, Fred was thankful he was still required to be on bed rest and "couldn't possibly leave, even in the present situation" according to Molly. She'd managed to avoid an interrogation from Mrs. Weasley, for now anyway, by claiming she had a headache and needed to lie down for a bit.

She knew she wouldn't be able to ignore the situation at hand forever, but she needed a moment to herself to mentally prepare for the words of pity she'd be receiving when everyone returned to the Burrow. As she climbed the familiar stairs to the bedroom she'd been sharing with Ginny for so many summers, she noticed the door to the twins bedroom was open. She thought about the look on Fred's face as he announced his partner-Lavender. She felt herself reaching for the door, pushing it open further. If anyone would understand what she was feeling right now, it would be Fred.

"Hello," she said quietly with a sad smile as she opened the door all the way. Fred was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling with a blank look on his face. She'd never seen him so somber in all the years she'd known him. Her voice seemed to break his unpleasant reverie.

Fred rolled onto his side and forced a smile at Hermione, then immediately returned to his prior position of lying on his back. Laying on his side, even if just for a moment, seemed to have caused him immense pain. "Hermione," he said smoothly, as if he hadn't a single worry. "Come to join the self-pity party, have you?"

She laughed, but didn't agree with or deny what he'd said. "It looks like you and I are the only ones who aren't quite willing to accept this yet...but I suppose Ron was right. It could be worse. I could have been assigned Malfoy."

Fred began laughing with her, causing Hermione to blush. She wasn't used to being the one who made him laugh. "I don't think the Ministry is quite ready to let Death Eaters reproduce yet, though if they got desperate enough I wouldn't put it entirely past them." He patted the seat of the chair beside his bed. "Come on then, have a seat. It's perfect timing that you decided to stop by and visit." She stepped into the room, realizing she'd never actually set foot in the twins' room before. The walls were a pale yellowish-orange color and bare, unlike the rest of the rooms in the house. It was barely furnished, just two beds, the chair that had been placed next to Fred's bed, and a single dresser-they must have taken everything else with them to the flat above the shop when they'd moved out. She took a seat, moving the chair a bit further away from the bed than it had been.

"Perfect timing?" she asked quizzically, thinking about the way in which she felt pulled to his room just moments ago.

"I think I've come up with a way to get us out of this, but you'll have to trust me a bit here," he said. His voice was serious.

"I can't think of a single time either you or George has asked me to trust you and it went well in the end," Hermione teased, thinking back to all the trouble the two had gotten themselves into at Hogwarts. She'd always pretended to be upset with them, but that was mostly because she'd know if she ever wanted to make Prefect, she had to hold herself to a higher standard. She had to admit that most of the time the level of magic it took to pull off their pranks and create their products was impressive-though most people still saw the twins as just goofballs, Hermione realized they were much more intelligent that they liked to be perceived as.

"You've got me there," Fred grinned. "But this is different. Hear me out...the Ministry said they'd be accepting appeals, yeah? Well what if-"

He was interrupted by the distinctive cracking noise that accompanied apparition from downstairs and an unfamiliar voice speaking to Mrs. Weasley floated up the stairs, though they couldn't make out the conversation.

"Must be Charlie," he continued after a moment of listening. Hermione hadn't spent enough time with the eldest Weasley brother to tell one way or the other. Fred didn't seem concerned and continued with his plan. "Neither of us are happy, yeah? I don't mean to speak for you, but I know I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life with McLaggen."

Hermione shuddered at the thought. She'd only thought as far as the wedding until now, but to think about her life with Cormac five, ten, twenty years down the line made her all the more nauseous.

"And I've had enough of Lavender just from the couple months she thought Ron was the light of her life...I don't think she'd appreciate spending her final years with the likes of me by her side either to be honest."

"So what do you propose we do?" Hermione asked. For what felt like the first time in her life, she couldn't come up with a plan to get out of this mess and definitely was not following Fred's line of thought.

"Propose!"

"Right, what do you propose?"

"Just that! Hermione, you can't marry someone else if you've already been proposed to, it's the one thing the Ministry can't possibly deny in an appeal, eh?" He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to connect the dots. Realization slowly began to dawn on her. "I haven't worked out all the details yet but...Ah, there we go," Fred said with a grin, noticing her changing expression as she put the pieces of what he was suggesting together. "I see those gears turning. They don't call you the brightest witch of your age for nothing," he winked at her as he spoke. "You're unhappy, I'm unhappy so...marry me instead."

Before she could collect her thoughts enough to formulate a response to his idea-his absolutely insane, but just insane enough that it might work idea-a knock on the door interrupted her.

Fred spoke quickly, grabbing her hand and pulling her to sit on the bed next to him. "Follow my lead," he instructed quietly, releasing her hand and placing his arm around her waist. The door swung open with force-it wasn't Charlie who had apparated in earlier, Hermione realized, and Fred must have known that.

"Alright, Hermione! This worked out well for us, eh?" Cormac stepped forward into the room.

"Ah, Cormac! How've you been mate? Hopefully gotten over the whole 'not making the quidditch team' debacle, right? I'm sure Harry didn't mean anything by it, but

after you played substitute that one time, I was quite relieved to be honest with you," Fred said with a laugh that was much too enthusiastic for who he was speaking to. He spoke quickly, clearly wanting to discuss more than just Quidditch, though it seemed Cormac hadn't quite picked up on that yet.

"Er, yeah, sure, that was years ago, I've gotten much better since—"

"Great to hear," Fred interrupted, grinning so hugely it was almost unnerving. He was still laying flat on his back, face towards the ceiling. "I've got to be frank with you though, I'm just not sure you understand quite yet that you won't be marrying Hermione. You see, we've been dating for years now and I'm sure you'll understand why I don't necessarily want to let her go and marry some other bloke just because the Ministry sent her a letter." His tone became increasingly more serious with every word he spoke. His eyes darkened and the smile had disappeared from his face completely by the end of his sentence. Cormac's face had gone completely white and his mouth had opened slightly in a stunned silence. Hermione had fortunately managed to resist the urge to let her jaw drop to the floor as well.

"You and Hermione?" Cormac finally managed to choke out. He glanced back and forth between Fred and Hermione, trying to gauge whether or not this was a sick joke.

Hermione cleared her throat, stealing one more look at Fred. He said nothing, but his expression practically begged her to go with his story. "He's telling the truth," she finally said, deciding that she'd rather pretend to be dating Fred than continue spending another minute with Cormac...though it felt like she was simply picking the lesser of two evils at the moment for how frustrated with Fred she was. If she'd had time to prepare a story or even just a few minutes to gather her thoughts following his bombshell idea she wouldn't be so flustered now. "We've been together since the Yule Ball, almost four years ago now," she decided. That seemed like long enough to establish a serious relationship, one that might take precedence in an appeal to the Ministry. Her voice sounded much more confident than she expected to in her lie, but she

didn't anticipate that Cormac would be able to tell one way or another even if she had hesitated.

Cormac continued his stunned silence.

"But what about…?" Oh no, she thought. He thought we were much more serious than I did back in sixth year...and if I'd been dating Fred, why would I even give him the time of day?

"Right," Cormac finally said after Hermione said nothing in response to his question. "Hermione, could we talk outside for a moment?" he asked. He continued staring at Fred as he spoke, as if he was scared Fred might try to hit him...or debating on whether it would be a fair fight if he decided to throw the first punch.

"I suppo-"

"No, I think Hermione will stay here," Fred cut her off and moved to a sitting position, readjusting the grip he had on her waist. She could tell it hurt him to move that way. She briefly thought that she didn't appreciate the way he was speaking for her-if this had been a real relationship, she'd have to have a word with him about how she was perfectly capable of speaking for herself. Yet even in her frustration, she didn't correct him. His plan seemed to be working to a degree, though she didn't know if it would be fool-proof enough to pass the Ministry's appeal system. "Actually, I think it would be best if you left for now," Fred said firmly. Cormac began to argue, but Fred cut him off once more. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hermione will write you and let you know when you're officially off the hook, don't you worry."

Hermione swallowed hard, feeling even more unsure than she had just before she entered Fred's room.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we were in the middle of a conversation before all of this, and I'd like to get back to it," Fred said, glancing not-so-subtly at the door. Cormac looked as if he wanted to argue again, but decided it wasn't worth it and left without another word. Before the door had even shut all the way, Fred turned to Hermione. "So, what do you say? Will you marry me?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was speechless. She couldn't tell whether Fred was serious or if he and George were trying to pull one over with her. When George had asked her if she'd like to work in the shop she thought that would be the craziest thing she'd hear all week! And now, Fred asking her to marry him instead of Cormac...it would be a marriage of convenience of course, but she couldn't decide if marrying someone to avoid marrying someone else was something she was quite willing to do! She had almost forgotten Fred was in the room, staring up at her, eyes wide and a small smile. He looked a bit nervous, though she hadn't the foggiest idea why he would be nervous. He was Fred Weasley. If Hermione rejected his idea, he could ask twelve other witches who were definitely more his type.

"I need to think," she finally decided. "This is all...a bit much. I mean, I've just found out today I'm supposed to marry Cormac which is a shock enough in itself, but now you're proposing I marry you instead and I need to find my parents before I can marry anyone at all, plus you and George has asking me to work in the stop..I just don't know if-I just need some time, I need to settle down and think things through before I make any rash decisions." She inhaled deeply. He looked quite disappointed, as if he was actually a bit hurt that she didn't immediately jump into his arms and agree to get married the next day. "I'm not saying no," she clarified quickly. "I just need to think about it all."

"Take all the time you need. And whatever you decide, I'll respect it." This made Hermione feel much better.

"Thank you Fred," she said and stood up from the bed, preparing to leave the room. If she needed a moment alone before, she needed it even more so now.

"But I do have to warn you," he caught her attention, causing her to turn around and face him once more. "I can be very convincing," he spoke slowly in a low voice, almost a whisper. He reached his hand towards her face and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, staring deeply into her eyes. Hermione blushed bright red as his fingers grazed her ear. A playful smile broke out on his face.

"Are you sure almost dying didn't make you lose your absolute mind?!" Hermione jumped back and rolled her eyes, wanting to increase the distance between them as much as possible.

"Nah, definitely not. Marrying you would be the best thing that's ever happened to me, I won't make this decision easy for you. You'll see. It'll be the best thing that's ever happened to you too," he said, winking at her.

"You've definitely gone completely insane," she said as she finally made her exit from the room and headed upstairs, pleased with herself that she'd gotten the final word in. There's no way he meant that. Fred Weasley thinks marrying me would be the best thing to ever happen to him? I can't believe I let him get under my skin so much there. When he touched my hair...surely he and George are just messing with me. I can't believe a single word of it.

"Oi, Hermione!" Fred called. Hermione hesitated for a moment, debating on whether or not she should continue on and pretend she hadn't heard him. She hadn't been breathing, she realized, as she took a deep breath in before going up the final step and heading straight for her bed. Whatever he wanted would have to wait. She grabbed the nearest book and cracked it open, knowing she wouldn't be able to focus at all on its contents after everything that had happened that day.

Her mind began to drift almost immediately. Really, Hermione, would marrying Fred be so bad? He'd definitely be a laugh, and he is quite attractive...I wouldn't even have to worry about his parents liking me, they've known me for years…

She began to imagine herself in a white dress, walking down the aisle, Fred at the other end. She smiled. The idea was a bit comforting, she had to admit to herself. More comforting than the thought of Cormac waiting for her at the end of the aisle. Plus, if I'll be working in the shop anyway we'll have plenty of time to really get to know one another and...before she knew it Hermione's eyes began to close and she'd fallen asleep, dreaming of a wedding with Fred Weasley.

…...

"I've been sent to invite you to St. Mungo's." A tall red-headed figure entered her room, without knocking, awaking Hermione with a start. For half a second she thought Fred had managed to get himself up the stairs to her room.

"St. Mungo's?" Hermione perked up as she comprehended what he'd said, realizing that it was, in fact, not Fred but George. "Have they figured out...?"

"A potion that should bring Fred all back to normal? So they say," George grinned. "But he's still stuck in bed now. And he wanted me to tell you-in his words, not mine-that he would absolutely love it if Hermione Granger would do us the honor of joining us on this trip."

Hermione closed the book she'd been poring over for the past few hours and gently set it on the bedside table. She wondered whether Fred had told George about his proposal. She had always assumed they'd told one another everything, but if George knew she was sure he would have teased her about it by now.

"He wants me to come?" she asked apprehensively. Fred didn't need to pretend he cared one way or another about her or her whereabouts just because they were tossing around the idea of a fake marriage.

"Specifically requested it."

"I-you're sure? He's sure?"

"Absolutely. He was so adamant that I come ask you immediately that he about tried to hobble up the stairs himself as I wasn't moving fast enough."

Hermione wasn't sure how to react, what to feel. "Well...okay. Yes, I'll come along then."

"Brilliant! You're a great fiance already, Hermione. Almost makes me wish I had the idea myself, though I am quite content with Verity too," George teased.

There it was. He had told George. Hermione's face went bright red. "If he'd told you the whole story, you'd know that I haven't agreed to anything yet!" she argued instantly, picking up the nearest pillow and throwing it as hard as she could at him. "And could you please quiet down before the entire world hears you!"

"Oh, c'mon now, it'll be great! Though, if I catch you snogging my twin on the clock, we'll have to have some words. He is your boss now too, you know," George snickered, throwing the pillow back at Hermione.

"I told you, I haven't agreed to it!" she insisted.

"You're not going to work in the shop?" George visibly deflated.

"What? Of course I'm working in the shop! I haven't agreed to…" she lowered her voice to a whisper. "...marry Fred! I don't know what he's told you but I need time to think about it. Part of me can't help but wonder if this is all some elaborate joke the two of you have put together to humiliate me even more than I've already been feeling!" Hermione huffed loudly and flopped down onto her bed. So much for a moment of peace. She continued staring at George, unsure of what she even expected him to say. George sat down on the floor in front of her, stretching his long legs out so they went under the bed, propping himself up with his arms behind him.

"Nobody is pulling one over on you this time, Hermione," he finally said after a moment. He'd let her take a few deep breaths before he spoke. "I wish I could say it was something Fred and I were behind for everyone's sake but...even two of the greatest wizard slash prankers alive such as ourselves know when we've crossed a line. So if the Ministry is trying to prank us, they're doing a terrible job, yeah?"

"Then why is Fred so adamant about the two of us getting married instead? Is he just that repulsed by Lavender? I don't particularly love the idea of being the desperation pick, though I suppose I'd be doing the same to him to avoid Cormac…"

George raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Don't tell him I told you, but he also said he was one hundred per cent sure he was going to convince you. And I think he might be right Granger, based on the way your blush hasn't disappeared since the moment I mentioned Fred's name."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "I haven't been blushing!" Her hands flew to her cheeks, and though she knew she was lying, she was still surprised to feel the heat coming off of her skin.

"Right, and I'm not mum's favorite," he winked. "I'll keep it between us, promise. Fred doesn't need to know how he makes your heart all fluttery."

….

The trip to St. Mungo's passed in a blur. Hermione couldn't help but think back to her earlier imaginations of what her and Fred's wedding might look like every time she looked at him. She stood by his side as the healer administered the potion to Fred, who looked as if they'd given him spoiled milk to drink as the liquid touched his tongue. She couldn't help but notice the quiet confusion emanating from Mrs. Weasley, who had also come along. Of course she would be wondering why Hermione was there, why Fred had insisted she come along. Fred had been friendly with Hermione the entire time, flirting blatantly, though Hermione wasn't as receptive as she imagined he'd hoped she would be. She was too nervous, still unsure whether the whole situation wasn't just a dream. Hermione was grateful that Mrs. Weasley kept her confusion to herself and politely pretended that it wasn't all a bit odd.

It only took moments for the potion to do its work-Fred was practically doing cartwheels around the hospital by the time it had gone into full effect. The healers removed all the bandages that remained on most of his body and they were free to leave after promising that he would return if he felt any side effects or returning pain. Before she knew it, they were back at the Burrow standing in the kitchen. Hermione leaned against the counter, and pretended to be engaged in the small talk happening between Fred, George, and their mother. She spoke, but her words were on autopilot as her mind wandered in other directions. Fred had taken a spot standing leaning next to her, his hand resting on the counter right behind the small of her back. He was close to her, but in the small kitchen of the Burrow it was difficult not to be close to one another-she didn't think anyone would think too much into it.

She had noticed the way he moved was fluid, normal. It surprised her how well the potion had worked-if she hadn't known how injured Fred had been not even an hour ago, she'd never have known there was anything wrong with him to begin with. And the way his arm felt around her was...nice. It felt natural. She was so focused on their closeness that she hardly noticed when George and Mrs. Weasley quietly dismissed themselves from the conversation and left the room. She was slightly embarrassed by how distracted she felt.

"Right, well, I think I'll head back upstairs," she said suddenly as she realized they were alone now. She felt overwhelmed-their conversation from earlier had made her look at Fred in a new light, one she wasn't sure yet how to deal with.

"Before you go running off like you did earlier..." Fred took a step in front of her, blocking her from going any further. He ran a hand through his hair as he spoke. He looked a bit nervous, she noticed, but he maintained eye contact. "What are you doing tonight at...say, 7 o'clock?"

Hermione stumbled, almost walking directly into his chest. "Er...I don't have anything in particular on the agenda, I was going to look into finding some books on reversing obliviation but..." she trailed off. She knew she was getting ahead of herself, as she hadn't even made any progress on finding her parents. That was the first step. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking...if you want to...I'd quite like to take you out on a date. If that's something you'd be interested in. Nothing huge or fancy, but I think it would be nice for us to be able to spend some time together away from the many distractions the Burrow has to offer." He paused. "But I understand if you'd rather focus your attention elsewhere. I'd be wanting to do the same," he said quietly. His tone sounded genuine. Hermione's heart was racing. Why was it racing? Her initial reaction told her to say no-she was much too nervous just standing here with Fred in a casual setting. She didn't want to think about how nervous she'd be on a date with him. She tried to shake those thoughts from her mind-if she was going to agree to marry him, she needed to know if she'd be able to at least hold a decent conversation with him first.

"Actually," she said, gathering up all the courage she had. "I think that's a great idea." She smiled, taking in a deep breath. Her heart was pounding. She needed to relax. They weren't actually going on a proper date. This was just a formality-something to make it easier if they were to get engaged. And, she reminded herself, if Fred hadn't shown an interest in her for the past seven years, one date or a thousand dates wouldn't change that now. He wasn't asking her on a date because he wanted to properly date her, he was asking because of their potential arrangement. Don't let yourself actually begin to fall for him.

Fred's expression turned to a grin, causing Hermione's heart to hammer even harder in her chest. Her agreement seemed to have brought back all of his normal confidence. "Excellent. I'll have you know, I am notoriously fantastic at planning dates. I've already figured out exactly what I want to do. Don't worry about getting all dressed up or anything-comfort is key tonight. And I'm not telling you anything else until we're off. Don't want to ruin the surprise and take all the fun out of it, yeah?"

"A surprise, hm? I'm starting to wonder if I should rethink this...a mystery date with Fred Weasley sounds like it could go a thousand different ways, and I'm not confident that all of them would end with me back home in one piece," she said, giving Fred a quick wink. For a moment, she swore she saw a bit of pink appear in his cheeks. Surely it was just her imagination.

"Guess you'll just have to trust me then," he quipped. Before Hermione could comprehend what was about to happen, Fred's lips brushed her cheek just for a moment, before he leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "See you tonight, Granger," he breathed, and strolled out of the kitchen without another word.


	4. Chapter 4

"I have three options for you. I managed to squeeze some information out of Fred about what you're doing tonight, so these wouldn't be my normal picks, but you'll definitely appreciate a pair of jeans tonight." Ginny laid each outfit out flat, smoothing out the wrinkles that appeared when set on the uneven surface of the bed. Immediately after agreeing to...whatever it was that Fred had planned for the two of them that night, Hermione had sought out Ginny for help preparing. She'd spent almost half an hour recounting everything that had happened with Fred, taking into account the time it took to answer the million questions Ginny had had while she told the story.

"Oh, perfect, Ginny! What did he say? What are we doing?"

Ginny mocked zipping up her lips. "Sorry, 'Mione. Promised not to tell you. It was the only was he'd agree to tell me. But don't worry, you'll look great regardless, you always do."

Hermione huffed impatiently. She knew Ginny wouldn't budge and didn't waste her breath trying to get more information. Besides, the idea of a surprise was exciting in some ways. "Fine then...What have we got here?"

Ginny held up a dark green sweater with a triangle shaped cutout in the back, a burnt orange blouse with full length balloon sleeves and a mock neck, and finally, a satin navy blue top with lace trim around a plunging v-neck. "Green is Fred's favorite color," she explained. "The mock neck is always a classic, and this one..." she twirled the satin top around. "It's just the perfect amount of fun and sexy."

"Definitely not that one," Hermione protested, taking the satin top and throwing it on the floor behind her. She looked back and forth between the green and orange tops for a moment before settling on the sweater. "This one seems most like me...and if you say green is his favorite color..." She quickly changed into a pair of jeans and the sweater then allowed Ginny to get to work on her hair and makeup. They sat in silence for a few minutes as Ginny focused.

"So...can you actually see yourself marrying him?" she finally asked after a moment. She tried to remain focused on detangling Hermione's hair, but it was obvious she'd been wanting to ask for a while.

Hermione sighed. "Yes," she said apprehensively. The more she'd thought about it, the more she felt pulled towards Fred. But all of the unknowns were still giving her pause-Hermione Granger did not like going into situations without being able to make an educated guess about all the ways they could possibly end.

Ginny grinned. "I always knew you'd be a part of our family...just didn't expect it to be this way," she said with a laugh. "But I've been thinking about it...Fred's better for you than Ron would have been, honestly. It's perfect." Hermione wasn't so sure. She knew she cared about Ron, but that was more of a brotherly relationship than anything else. She'd never felt any butterflies around him, no nerves, no uncertainty. He was reliable and familiar, nothing more. Yet, everyone else besides the two of them seemed to expect them to get together eventually.

"It's different with Fred. With Ron, I think we both knew there wasn't anything between us even if everyone thought there was. We never had to talk about it. But now, with Fred, it's like I'm seeing a new light. Even just thinking about him, I get nervous, but excited. I think I'm just worried that..." She tried to pick her words carefully, to accurately explain what she was thinking. "...That he's seeing this as more of a business transaction than a marriage. I don't want to look silly by falling for him if I'm just the backup so he doesn't have to marry Lavender."

"Mum couldn't stop talking to me this afternoon about the way Fred had been looking at you at St. Mungo's. She was sure there was something going on between the two of you, though this was before I knew there really was. But I believed it. It made sense, in a way. The goofball and the bookworm always seem to end up together, don't they? They both need someone to balance the other out." Ginny gave Hermione a comforting smile. "And I know Fred can be a bit much at times, but he's got a good heart. He would never do anything to deliberately hurt you."

"I'm scared, Ginny. I feel like I could actually have feelings for Fred. I don't want to go through this and have the Ministry deny our appeal, or have Fred decide 5 years from now that he's made a mistake or...oh, I don't know...I really do like him is all."

"Go on this date," Ginny coaxed. " If it goes badly, at least you haven't agreed to marry him yet. And if it goes well...well, who knows what could happen? Maybe this is the first day of the rest of your life."

…

"Close your eyes."

"But I don't want to close my eyes."

"Don't you trust me, Granger?"

"Not in the slightest."

"C'mon, I promise this will be fun. I won't do anything to you that I wouldn't do to George."

"Is that supposed to make me trust you more?"

"Er...okay, point taken. Just trust me."

Hermione sighed and obliged reluctantly. She knew Fred wasn't the type to give up once he had a plan in his mind. Fred had come to collect her from her room at seven o'clock on the dot and taken her to the backyard of the Burrow. He still refused to elaborate on his plans for the evening.

"Okay, now..." he said. He picked up both of her hands and held them out in front of her. He guided her several steps to the left, then forward several feet.

"Lift your left leg up high, then over." As she apprehensively began to lift her foot off the ground, she kicked something solid and felt it roll a few inches away.

"What was...wait...Fred Weasley! I am not getting on a broomstick with you! You were really going to make me get on a broom with my eyes closed!" she exclaimed, opening her eyes and glaring at the boy in front of her. He was grinning, apparently amused by her reaction.

"Well, I was going to have you open them before I took off..."

"Hmph."

Fred was still holding her hands and gave them a small squeeze.

"You'll be holding on to me the whole time. I won't pull any of my old beater flips and tricks. Swear."

She shifted her weight apprehensively and considered her options. In the back of her mind she knew if she was going to agree to marry him, she'd have to start getting used to things like this.

Before she knew it, they were in the air. She couldn't believe she'd actually done it. And that out of everyone in the world, Fred Weasley was the one who had finally convinced her to get on a broomstick of her own free will. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was the only thing keeping Hermione from passing out in fear. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Fred's waist-she had to be making it difficult for him to breathe, she thought, but couldn't find it in herself to hold on with any less force. She pressed her cheek firmly up against his back, eyes tightly shut. There was no way she'd be able to look around. The wind was blowing her hair in all directions—she wished she'd thought to put it up into a ponytail before they'd taken off. The air was cold and she would have been shivering if she hadn't been so close to Fred, sharing his body heat. All of the nervousness she'd had about being alone with Fred earlier in the day had melted away, though she didn't know if it was because she simply felt as ease with him now that the moment had come, or if that nervousness had just been replaced by the nervousness of flying. Probably a combination, she decided.

"Look down there, see all the lights? That's the muggle town, when we were kids we used to go down there and—Are you looking?"

"No!"

"Just one eye. I'll hold your hand again if it makes you feel better." She could feel his stomach moving as he chuckled. She noticed every slight adjustment he made. They veered slightly to the side as he removed one hand from the broom and reached for one of Hermione's hands that were still secured around his abdomen, intertwining his fingers in hers.

"If I thought even for a second that anything bad would happen to you up here, Hermione, I would have picked something else for us to do." He squeezed her hand again, a slight reassurance. She opened one eye carefully and slowly and looked up just a bit from Fred's back. Seeing that he was still in full control of the broom with just one hand was somehow comforting to her.

"There we go," he murmured, his voice smooth and relaxed. "It's quite beautiful, isn't it?" He was right. The lights from the town that would have been so ordinary if they'd been walking down the street had completely transformed from this perspective.

"It is," she breathed, managing to convince herself to finally open both eyes.

The longer they remained in the air, the more Hermione relaxed, eventually looking around in all directions, soaking in every moment. She finally understood what was so appealing about flying, something she'd never have imagined herself admitting, though she couldn't anticipate she'd be getting on a broom alone any time soon. She eventually loosened her grip on Fred's waist, never removing her arms from their position firmly around him. She found herself resting her cheek on his back again with her eyes open now, simply enjoying the feeling of being so close to him. She'd just been wondering how far they'd traveled and how long they'd been gone when she noticed the distinct appearance of the Burrow approaching on the horizon…

The landing was smoother than she expected. Fred kept hold of her hand as they dismounted and began to walk back, carrying the broom in his free hand. They had a short walk to make it back up to the house. She was grateful for this-she felt as if she was living in a dream, fully aware that re-entering the Burrow would be her wake-up call back to reality. They walked slowly, meandering, occasionally bumping into each other's arms. They traveled in a comfortable silence.

Without warning, Fred stopped walking. Unprepared for the sudden stop, Hermione took another step, pulling his arm behind her. When he didn't budge, she looked over her shoulder. "Coming?" she asked softly.

Ignoring her question, he sat down in the grass and stared up at her expectantly, as if he were waiting for her to join him on the ground. "You didn't think I was going to let you go yet, did you?"

…..

"Thank you, Fred," she said, lying back into the grass and staring up at the sky. It was almost unfathomable earlier that evening they'd been up there, flying among the stars. Fred had laid down in the grass beside her. Somehow her head ended up resting on his chest, his arm wrapped around her. "That was...fantastic." They'd been lying there for quite some time making conversation, each of them throwing in a vaguely flirty comment from time to time, just to gauge the other's reaction. Now, Fred was pointing out constellations that the Weasley's had made up on their own, while Hermione pointed out the astronomically correct one's she'd learned about in school before she'd started at Hogwarts.

"No, Miss Granger. Thank you," he replied. He rolled on to his side, facing her now, and propped his head up on his hand. "I reckon this may be the best date I've ever been on."

Hermione was suddenly embarrassed. The word date reminded her of what they were doing, their situation, and the fact that Fred was only being so nice because she was his best option at being free from Lavender.

"You don't have to do that, you know," she whispered. "Any of this."

"Do what?" He sounded genuinely confused. He was a better actor than she expected.

"Pretend that this was the best date you've ever been on, hold my hand, act as though you actually like me...I know we're just playing this out so I'll agree to marry you and we can get past the Ministry. You don't have to pretend when it's just the two of us." She sat up and moved away from him so they no longer touched. He followed suit, sitting up and turning to face her. While their closeness had felt so comfortable to her the entire evening, Hermione found herself wondering whether he'd felt the same way or if he was just accepting it as inevitable.

His expression looked hurt, confused, but only for a moment. After a moment, and much to Hermione's surprise, he laughed. "But what if...hear me out now. What if I actually did like you! What would you say then?"

"I would say you'd tested too many love potions today and you need to sleep it off."

"Hm, maybe you're right, today was the bi-weekly love potion testing day..."

"Fred!"

"Kidding, of course. We only test the love potions monthly." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. Right." He ran a hand through his hair. The nervousness she'd noticed when he first asked her on a date had returned. "Well, of course I'm not in love with you." Hermione's stomach dropped. She'd know this moment was coming, yet hearing him say it out loud hurt more than she expected. "Not yet, anyway..." he murmured. Not yet? Her emotions were on a rollercoaster. He continued speaking. "I've never told anyone I loved them before, for the record. Seems a bit serious to be throwing around unless you're absolutely sure you mean it."

He took a deep breath, as if he had to prepare himself to say his next piece. "But I do like you Hermione. Quite a bit actually." Hermione said nothing. A million thoughts entered her head all at once. "And I wouldn't be 'in love' with any witch I'd just started dating that same day," he continued. "I know our situation is a little odd, but I promise you I haven't been acting any differently than I'd like to be. Coming up with the idea to marry you was one of my more brilliant moves. I've always been interested in you...well, since about the time that the Yule Ball happened anyway. I just figured you were too busy with school, or enamored with Ron, or that I wasn't good enough or too busy pulling pranks and all that it'd never work. So I'd like to give it a proper go here...if you'd be okay with that, of course."

"Okay," Hermione whispered. She didn't know if she'd be able to use her full voice. She was practically speechless.

"Okay?" Fred asked. "I admit I've fancied you for almost four years and all I get is 'okay'? Geesh, Hermione, break a man's heart, won't you!" he teased.

"What I meant was okay...we can give it a proper go. And if we don't end up resenting one another before it's too late...I'll marry you." Hermione knew she'd never have any feelings for Cormac that even came close to what she was feeling for Fred right now. She still wasn't sure what exactly she was feeling for Fred, but she knew that having the choice between them, she'd pick Fred every time.

Fred's face lit up. He threw his arms around her, practically tackling her into the grass. Hermione was on her back while Fred held himself up above her, looking into her eyes, grinning like a lunatic. "Excellent," he murmured.

He slowly lowered his head, bringing his face within inches of hers, then paused. She studied the freckles that patterned his cheeks, the deep blue of his eyes. "If I were to-hypothetically, of course…kiss you right now...is that something you'd like?" He spoke quietly, practically breathing the words. His voice was intoxicating.

Hermione hesitated for half a second. Of course she'd want that. She could no longer deny that she felt something for Fred Weasley. And she was sure, in this moment at least, that she wanted Fred to kiss her.

For the first time in her life, Hermione decided to throw caution to the wind. Instead of answering his question, she raised her head from the grass and placed her lips gently on his.


	5. Chapter 5

Getting back into the Burrow without drawing too much attention to themselves proved to be a problem neither had anticipated when they left for the evening. They had gotten so lucky earlier as to walk down the stairs without being spotted by anyone who didn't know about their plan--essentially, anyone who wasn't Ginny or George. But it was nearly midnight by now, and light still shone visibly through the kitchen windows. Mrs. Weasley was surely still awake. The question was whether or not she'd noticed their absences and was waiting for them.  
"Well, it's a gamble any way you look at it," Fred said. "We've got about three options, I reckon. Option one...We go in at the same time and get hit with a barage of questions. Option two...We hope she hasn't seen us yet and go in one at a time with our own separate excuses. Or...option three...” he paused, making a show out of wigging his eyebrows at her. “We apparate back to my flat and floo in early in the morning while everyone is asleep. I’m sure George is off at Verity’s and Mum has insisted i stay here a few more nights so she can make sure I don’t revert back into my injuries, but I’d quite like a night back in the privacy of my own home...”  
Hermione considered these choices. She knew they'd have to tell the family eventually, but was she ready to do that right in this moment? She’d thrown option three out right off the bat, rolling her eyes as he suggested it—mostly because she wasn’t sure if he was serious, but also because she wasn’t quite ready to share a bed with Fred just yet. Baby steps, she thought.  
“I’ll go in first,” she said with finality. The wind had begun to pick up, sending a chill down her spine. It was too cold for late August—she couldn’t stand outside any longer and think.  
“So no sleepover then?” Fred feigned disappointment. She chose to ignore him again.  
“I can say I couldn’t sleep and went for a walk. You wait ten minutes or so, and you can apparate in. If anyone asks your excuse can be that you went to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink and a catch-up with Lee or...anyone really.”  
“Brilliant. I’m sure there’s no way this can backfire on us.”  
“Let’s hope not, for both of our sakes. Your mother will have both of our hides if she knows we were sneaking around without telling her our plan.”  
“Too right you are, Hermione.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wrapped her arms around herself, bracing for the anxiety that was sure to come as she entered the house. It was difficult to pick a pace that felt natural as she approached the house. She was too aware of her surroundings. Too fast and she’d look suspicious, like she was hiding something. Too slow and she’d look upset, which would definitely prompt a sit down with Mrs. Weasley. And her face...why was it so hard to keep a neutral expression?! Hermione felt as though a million spotlights were shining on her all at once. She could practically be screaming ‘I snogged Fred Weasley!!!!’ for how unnatural she felt as she reached for the door handle. She stepped inside carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible, somewhat unsuccessfully. There was no one in sight—Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. The floor creaked as she took a further step into the light of the kitchen, causing her to curse under her breath. This particular spot always creaked, she knew, and chastised herself for forgetting. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a figure seated on the couch in the dark living room, who turned towards the source of the sound.  
“Hello?” they called out quietly.  
Another wave of relief washed over Hermione as she recognized the voice.  
“Oh, Harry, it’s just you,” she breathed, forgetting her attempts to remain quiet. She rushed into the living room and sat down on the couch next to him.  
“I’m so glad you’re here!“ she gushed. “I have so much to tell you—when did you get home?”  
“About an hour or so ago. The Ministry is no joke. Kept us late tonight, and they’re making us go back in early in the morning. I’d almost rather be in detention with Snape again,” Harry said. “Ron’s already asleep, I’m sure, but I wanted to see you before I went off to bed. Feels like it’s been ages since we last spoke.” Exhaustion was written into his face. His shoulders were slumped, dark purple shadows lingered under his eyes. Had he looked like this before? Was that really just yesterday that they’d heard from the Ministry about the marriage law, that Fred had proposed? Hermione felt a twinge of guilt that she’d only thought of telling Harry about her own life, and not asking about his first day of auror training.  
“Your first day!” she exclaimed. “How was it?”  
“Awful. But not. It was a great day, really. But it was...It was really something.” He looked as though he couldn’t find the words to describe it. “Did you know aurors have to take a physical fitness test? I thought I was in well enough shape but I was dead wrong.” Hermione was silently thankful she’d declined to start auror training with them. “How are you holding up?” he asked before she could ask him any more questions. “Have you spoken to Cormac?”  
Hermione began divulging all the details of everything that had happened since they’d last spoke. Well...almost everything. She neglected to mention the kiss that had taken place not even an hour ago, deciding to spare him the details of the way she’d been the one to actually initiate it, how she’d intended for it to be a quick peck, and how she’d been so overwhelmed by the sensation of it all that she had managed to explore Fred’s tongue with her own for much longer than she’d anticipated...After several minutes of speaking she took a deep breath, allowing Harry to digest all this new information.  
“And I think I could really start to fall for him, Harry,” she concluded. “It’s all very...overwhelming, to be honest.” Harry laughed once. She appreciated the difference between his reaction and Ginny’s. Ginny was best at bringing the excitement, hyping her up to the situation. Harry was more level-headed, thinking things over before he commented.  
“You and Fred...” he spoke slowly, pondering the idea. “Honestly, Hermione, I’d never have guessed it from you. It does make sense from him though. I always knew one of them had a thing for you, I could just never tell if it was Fred or George. They’ve always been a little bit...more, around you. If that makes sense.” He laughed when Hermione’s jaw practically hit the floor.  
“You’ve got to be joking,” she said, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.  
“Am not!” he insisted. “I didn’t think it was ever anything serious, but yeah. Definitely.”  
Hermione considered this. Fred really could have been telling the truth earlier—he had been interested in her before now, before it was just convenient for him.  
Before she could think about it too much, the familiar crack of apparition filled the room, causing her to jump. Her hand flew to her concealed wand out of habit.  
“Mum?” Fred called from the kitchen. He paced slowly into the dark living room. “Oh, it’s Harry! Hermione, we could have come in together after all,” he said, flopping down onto the couch between them. “I’m assuming she’s filled you in then? So sorry to do this to you Harry, I’m sure you’d like to be the best man in Hermione’s wedding, but George already threatened to give me the matching one-ear treatment if I don’t pick him, and I’m starting to appreciate that people can finally tell us apart now.”  
Harry laughed again. Hermione was happy to see him smiling, enjoying normal conversation. Since the war had ended, he’d been closed off and distant. It was nice to see him slowly turning back into himself.  
“If it spares you from more injury, George can have it. St. Mungo’s has to be tired of the likes of all of us by now.” Harry stood up now, leaving Fred and Hermione alone on the couch. “I’m glad I caught you Hermione, and you know I’m always here if you need me,” he said sincerely, then excused himself off to bed, reminding them of the early morning he had coming soon. Hermione took this opportunity to begin her journey to bed as well.  
“Thank you again for tonight, Fred,” she said as she began to walk towards the stairs. Fred stood and followed closely behind her. “Oh, and if you and George are okay with it, I think I’ll head into the shop tomorrow. Try to learn some of the ropes, get the hang of things for a bit. Will you be back then, or taking more time off?” She was curious when the next time she’d see him was, outside of the confines of the Burrow.  
“I’ll be back, good as new and working harder than ever,” he assured her. “See you in the morning then, Granger,” he said with a smile, giving her one last gentle kiss on her check before he disappeared off to bed.

…….....................................................................

The shop was busy constantly. From the moment she set foot in the door to the moment they locked up at the end of the day, there was a steady stream of people tricking in and out. And it was exhausting. She didn't know how Fred, George, and Verity did this every day. "You get used to it after a few weeks," Verity assured her after Hermione had dropped a box of puking pastilles all across the storefront in a fluster. She knew Verity could tell how overwhelmed she was, though Verity remained patient and calm any time Hermione asked yet another question about where a particular product went or how to ring up the 2-for-1 Weasleys Wildfire Whizbangs special on the register.  
Fred and George filtered between the storeroom and the sales floor every so often, depending on the level of traffic in the store. When there were fewer people inside, they dedicated their time to perfecting the products and replenishing them. Even when she'd had a time turner to take as many classes as possible, she had never felt like she'd been trying to balance more all at once. It didn't help that each time Fred walked past Hermione he made sure to give her a cheeky wink, or place a hand on her waist in passing. He'd even stopped completely right in front of her once and leaned in close to her face, his eyes glued to her mouth. "Miss Granger," he'd crooned. Her mouth went dry as she breathed in his warm scent. It took all of her self-control not to close the gap between them and snog him senselessly in front of everyone. "I'd advise you to please get your mind out of the gutter while on the clock...can't have you trying to kiss me again while at work. I do try to appear as a professional here." Hermione flushed bright red and took a several steps backwards away from him, crossing her arms.  
"If my boss would let me get to work without distracting me every five minutes, maybe I wouldn't have time to let my mind get in the gutter to begin with..." she purred. Obviously Fred had still been thinking about the other night, their date, the kiss they shared. She couldn’t deny that it had been on her mind frequently as well.  
He chuckled, not making any denial of her accusations. There was only one person in the shop for now. Hermione allowed herself to relax against the counter behind her. She wanted to keep talking with Fred all day, but felt a little bit guilty doing so when there had been more customers waiting to be helped.

“So what do you say about sitting down with my parents tonight and filling them in on the plan? They’re going to need to know at some point, I reckon,” he said carefully. He wasn’t sure if she would be ready for that quite yet.  
Hermione took a deep breath and fiddled with the hem of her magenta work robes. She was nervous, she couldn’t deny, but she knew he was right. They would have to know eventually.  
“I think that’s probably a good idea. Why not get it out of the way?”  
“Then we won’t have to feel so much pressure to sneak around,” he added, a smirk appearing on his face. Hermione’s signature blush crept onto her cheeks again.  
“Let’s hope they have as much faith in this plan to bypass the Ministry as we do,” she said apprehensively. She wasn’t sure how the idea would go over—she was only sure that she was fully committed to the idea...regardless of the opinion of the rest of the world.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione glanced at herself in the mirror, making sure she didn’t have a hair out of place before heading downstairs for dinner. She’d left the shop about an hour ago, needing time to prepare herself before they shared the good news with the Weasley clan. The idea that in just a few hours she’d really be publicly engaged to Fred Weasley sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through her every time it crossed her mind. It was the most unlike her thing she’d ever done—and she was thrilled with it. The two of them would actually be able to get to know each other in a way they hadn’t had the chance to yet. Of course, they knew each other, but they didn’t know each other in the ways that a married couple would. They didn’t know what little pet peeves the other had, how they liked their coffee, whether they preferred to sleep in a full set of pajamas or in the nude or something in between. They were still working on learning the little things about one another that added up to be big things. Though even after the few short hours they’d spent together during their date, Hermione already felt closer to Fred. The little crush she’d harbored on “Ron’s big brother” made her laugh. Ron’s big brother was now her fiance. The word itself was odd to her still, but it rustled up butterflies in her stomach. She smiled to herself as she took one last glance in the mirror, finally pleased with the way she looked, and headed downstairs. Her heart was racing as she bounded down the steps, reminding herself that she still had to survive telling the family before she and Fred could dive into this relationship. 

She saw a light on and the door open to the twins' old bedroom, and wondered for a moment when Molly would free Fred from her observation here at the Burrow--he’d had no negative side effects since leaving St. Mungo’s, but Mrs. Weasley’s motherly instincts hadn’t relaxed yet. Hermione was a little bit grateful, she admitted to herself, knowing she would miss Fred’s presence when he officially moved back into the flat above the shop with George. Even if they hadn’t been talking about marriage, having the twins brought a level of excitement to the Burrow. The absence of that energy was noticeable every time they left. 

As she hopped down the last few steps before the twins room, she decided to stop in and see who was inside, hoping to see Fred one more time before dinner. It would be nice if they had a few minutes to make sure they were on the same page about how telling the rest of the Weasley family was going to go. She heard voices coming from the room, immediately recognizing Fred’s. The other took her a moment—she couldn’t make out the words they were saying just yet, but the second voice was familiar as well. The closer she got, the more familiar the voice became. Hermione had spent years sharing a room with that voice at Hogwarts...if she never had to hear it again it would be too soon. 

“Lavender....” she heard Fred say, but couldn’t make out the rest of his sentence. Peering over the door frame as stealthily as she could, Hermione tried to get a glance of what was going on in the room. 

Fred’s face was inches from Lavender’s, a darkness in his eyes that Hermione had never seen before. Lavender began to push herself up onto her tiptoes, throwing her arms around his neck and bringing her mouth to Fred’s, causing Hermione’s stomach to churn. She turned around immediately and ran back up the stairs, shutting her door as quietly as possible so Fred would never realize she’d been down there to begin with. Hot tears began to stream down her face before her own bedroom door was even shut all the way. 

“Hermione, oh no,” Ginny said in a soft voice, setting down the mascara she’d been carefully applying before Hermione’s entrance. She strolled across the room and wrapped her arms around Hermione, letting her get her emotions out for a moment before she asked what was going on. She knew Hermione would talk whenever she was ready. It didn’t take long. 

“Fred...” she sniffled. 

“What did that git do to you? I’m not afraid of him. Just say the word ‘Mione, I’ll make him pay,” she teased lightly, hoping to ease the tension a bit. 

“He was kissing Lavender, I was going downstairs to help your mum get everything set and I walked past his room, the door was open and he kissed her, I saw it with my own eyes,” Hermione whimpered. She didn’t even know exactly why this had hurt her so badly—was it the fact that she was going to be rejected for Lavender Brown? Or the fact that Fred had led her on this far, letting her think there was no way he’d marry Lavender, when really he had just been keeping all his options open. He must have thought Lavender wouldn’t want to marry  _ him  _ and needed a back-up just in case. 

Ginny looked appalled. Hermione couldn’t bear to look at the expression on her face for more than a second. It was a mix of horror and pity. Would people ever stop looking at her with pity? She grabbed Hermione’s hands and squeezed tightly. Ginny inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, her face changing from angry to relaxed. It was almost eerie how quickly Ginny regained her composure. Without warning, Ginny walked across the room and took one step outside the door. She took another breath, looked at Hermione apologetically. Before Hermione could stop her, Ginny was yelling. “FRED, IF YOU KNOW WHAT’S GOOD FOR YOU, YOU’LL GET UP HERE...NOW, PLEASE!”

Hermione was in a panic. “Ginny, what are you thinking?!” she hissed, wiping the tears from her face. “I look like a mess, I don’t want him to know I was up here crying over him, especially if he’s only seen me as an alternate this whole time!” Her own words caused tears to prickle in her eyes again. She held her breath, hoping it would prevent them from flowing.

“I’m going to give him a piece of my mind,” Ginny said calmly. She sat down, crossing her legs and staring at the door expectantly. The sound of Fred running up the stairs grew closer and closer. 

“No need to yell, Gin. You forget the walls in this place are so thin I could count the number of times you’ve snuck Harry up here in the past week,” he said with a grin. The smile quickly faded as he noticed the unpleasant look on his sister's face, and a disheveled Hermione in the corner of the room. “What’s going on?” He entered the room and walked directly to Hermione, placing a hand on her arm. “Are you okay? Did Cormac come back around? The git, I could kill him, I really could,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms all the way around Hermione. She remained limp in his grip, motionless. 

“Fred, you’re my brother. I care about you,” Ginny began, her tone even and relaxed. “But I care about Hermione too. And if one of my brother’s is being a prat, I reserve the right to call him out.  _ Especially _ if they’re being a prat and Hermione is involved.”

“Being a...spit it out Ginny, what are you getting at?”

“Why were you kissing Lavender in your room after asking Hermione to marry you instead?”

Hermione felt him stiffen, but he didn’t release his hold on her. He didn’t try to explain, didn’t come up with an excuse. The three stood in silence, waiting for Fred to say something, anything. And then...he laughed, a hint of bitterness to it. 

“You mean, why did Lavender show up here--uninvited, might I add--try to convince me I should give it a shot with her, and desperately try to seduce me when I refused?” Fred shot back. “Really, Ginny, I expected you to do a bit of research before accusing people of things. It was a nice try, though.”

Hermione felt a fresh wave of anxiety wash over her as she processed what he was saying. She was no longer embarrassed about being a second choice--she  _ wasn’t _ a second choice. She was embarrassed that she’d reacted so negatively without even giving Fred a chance, for assuming he was the one at fault in the situation, for looking in on his private conversation and jumping to conclusions.

“I’m...I’m sorry, Fred,” she blurted. “I just thought…”

“Don’t be,” he cut her off, rubbing her back gently before poking her in the side. “Can’t say I’d be too happy to catch Cormac trying to snog the daylights out of you either. C’mon, we can talk more later if you’d like. But I think mum’s about to lose it on Ron downstairs and I don’t want to miss that,” he said, kissing the top of her head and grabbing her hand to lead her downstairs. “Oh, and our engagement news! Can’t forget about that,” he teased. Ginny looked at Fred with narrowed eyes, unsure whether she should believe him. “Cross my heart, ladies. I wouldn’t be caught with Lavender Brown if she was the last witch on earth. Especially not when I’ve got you waiting up here for me,” he said to Hermione. Ginny rolled her eyes and walked out of the room without another word. “After dinner, meet me in my bedroom. Promise, we can talk more then. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to discuss,” he mumbled to Hermione as Ginny disappeared down the stairs. He squeezed her hand gently. 

Hermione nodded, wiping her eyes one last time and glancing in the mirror. 

“You look beautiful,” Fred assured her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But what’s new about that? Now...are we ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” She sniffled one last time before pulling herself completely back together. 

“That’s the spirit, love.”

  
  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione tried to engage herself in the wedding talks at the dinner table to no avail. The entire family was there for dinner, minus Bill and Fleur, but she couldn’t focus on anything anyone had to say. She was too concerned with when and how this was all going to go down. She’d managed to catch that George and Verity had planned their wedding for two months from now, and Charlie was set to marry some witch who had been a Ravenclaw in his year at Hogwarts. Fred had had no problem jumping into the conversation, she’d noticed. She envied his ability to remain calm regardless of the situation--or to pretend like he wasn’t worried at least. 

“Fred, have you spoken to Lavender yet?” Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice sucking Hermione back into the conversation as she awaited Fred’s response anxiously. If there was any perfect segue into telling everyone that Fred would be marrying Hermione, this was it.

“Lavender, who?” he feigned.

Molly huffed. “Can’t you be serious for one minute, please!”

“I have, yes.”  _ Done more than spoken to her... _ Hermione thought, immediately berating herself for the thought. She’d definitely want to continue that conversation later, remembering Fred’s promise from upstairs. 

“And?” his mother prodded when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate on his own. “Have you picked a date?”

“I’m not sure I see the point in picking a date with someone I won’t be marrying,” he said, scooping up a forkful of mashed potatoes and shoving it into his mouth. Molly was stunned.

“Is she asking for an appeal?” she breathed, her voice full of concern. 

“I would hope so. After she found out I am,” he mumbled in response, mouth still full. “She’ll need a second option.”

“Frederick!” Molly gasped, slamming her fork down noisily. Everyone at the table was frozen in shock, their gazes shifting back and forth between mother and son. “The Ministry won’t accept an appeal just because you don’t like the person they’ve assigned you to!”

“Oh, the Ministry can shove it, honestly,” Ginny interjected. “If I was in either of his shoes, or Hermione’s shoes for that matter, I wouldn't be very keen on the idea either!” Hermione nodded at Ginny, a silent sign of appreciation for her support. 

“This isn’t about Hermione,” Mrs. Weasley shot back. Fred glanced at Hermione at the statement--her cue to speak up. Mrs. Weasley followed his eyes, making eye contact with Hermione as she reached her destination. Hermione took a deep breath, hoping it would help her relax.

“I can’t marry Cormac,” she stated in a shaky voice. She didn’t think she could say any more for now and looked to Fred, silently begging him to help her out. 

“And I can’t marry Lavender.” Fred made a performance of shuddering at the thought. “So we put our heads together, two of the most intelligent people on the planet that we are, and came up with a plan,” he continued, pausing as he finished his sentence, as if he was choosing his next words very carefully. “Hermione has agreed to marry me instead,” Fred said plainly, a smirk playing around his mouth. He glanced at Ron briefly before looking back down at his plate and gathering up another forkful of potatoes, as if he’d only been telling them about the method he used to tie his shoes that morning. 

Ron immediately emitted an awful sound, nearly choking at the words that had just come out of his brother’s mouth. Nobody spoke for what felt like an eternity. The clinking of utensils on plates had halted—George was the only one who continued eating. Harry and Ginny looked around the room distantly, pretending they knew nothing of the situation. Ron’s eyes shot to Hermione. “My brother?!” he demanded. Hermione was speechless, her mouth hanging open. She begged herself to speak, but no words would come out. 

“Ah, c’mon now everyone,” George said. He set his fork down on his plate haphazardly. “We have to keep pretending we like Hermione,” he stage-whispered. “Especially now that she’s going to be a Weasley soon enough. Where are the congratulations, the applause?” He clapped slowly, making a show of looking around at a different member of the family with each clap. 

Charlie was the first to break into a smile. “It’s a brilliant idea,” he said, bringing down the tension in the room by a smidge as everyone turned towards him, waiting to hear how he would justify their plan. Hermione sunk low into her chair, thankful that Charlie had called the attention of the room to himself. “The Ministry did say they’d be taking appeals, and Fred and Hermione have known each other just as long as she’s known the rest of us. Makes me wish I thought of it myself, though I’m not too unhappy with my assignment as it is.” Ginny kicked Charlie under the table. “What?! The Ministry didn’t get them all wrong,” he muttered.

“Thank you for that, Gin. In any case,” Fred continued. “Hermione and I are adults. Your opinions on the matter, as much as we value each and every word you all have to say about it, aren’t going to stop us.”

“Alright, Fred, Hermione? Can we take this outside?” Arthur interrupted. “Don’t think the whole family needs to share their opinion on the matter.” It was the first comment he’d made throughout the conversation. He stood from the table and gestured towards the backyard expectantly. “Molly, you too, of course,” he added as he noticed her face beginning to turn a very distinct shade of angry red. Hermione looked at Fred who gave her a slight nod and followed his father’s lead, standing up from the table and walking to the back door. Flustered, Hermione set her napkin on the table and obeyed as well. 

Nobody spoke for several minutes as they walked through the grass--it was already damp with dew, and fireflies filled the air around them. They walked around the large yard in a line--Fred on the right, Molly and Arthur in the middle, and Hermione to the left. The tension from the dinner table was still palpable. She didn’t know which would be worse...for them to continue without speaking, or to finally hear what they had to say. 

"They give you veritaserum in the appeal,” Mr. Weasley finally said. His voice was firm, but not aggressive. “You go in alone, you come out alone. No opportunity to relay any questions or give advice or line up stories.” He looked back and forth from Fred to Hermione. “They aren't messing around here, and I honestly don't know if the two of you will be able to pull it off." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, his voice strained. The Ministry had been working their employees harder than ever to pick up the pieces after everything that had happened over the last few years. Mrs. Weasley had taken a tight grip on his free hand, keeping her silence.

"I still want to try,” Fred said softly. He’d taken a moment to digest this new information, but his tone was confident. “What's the worst that could happen, they make us marry our original assignments? It's not ideal, but it's not like they'd ship us off to Azkaban for not being as compatible as we say we are," Fred glanced at Hermione, as if he was trying to gauge her opinion on the matter, then turned his attention back to his father. "I've known her since I was thirteen. We may not be lifelong sweethearts, but I know a thing or two about her and I know Miss Hermione Granger has the memory of an elephant. She’ll know more about me than just about anyone, ‘cept maybe George, I reckon. Especially if we have a bit of time to study.”

"I don't know what they'll do if you don’t pass. They haven't had a single appeal yet that has failed. They really haven’t had all that many appeals in general, but those I’ve heard of have had extremely solid cases. Couples with children who hadn’t been married, those who have been in an actual relationship for the better part of ten years...and as for everyone else who hasn’t appealed, it seems people are more willing to accept the whole thing than we'd expect." Mr. Weasley didn’t seem as convinced as Fred.

"I still think we should do it." Hermione’s interjection seemed to surprise the others who all stopped in their tracks as she spoke. “Fred’s right. The Ministry isn’t in the business of making any enemies right now. They’ll tell us yes or no, and we go on either way.” 

Fred smiled softly, giving Hermione a quick wink. "Right then. Let's do it." 

Molly smiled but it was strained. Apprehension was clear on her face. “You know I love you both dearly,” Molly began quietly. Her voice was soothing and calm, even in a moment of crisis. She was lucky to have someone like Molly in her life while her own mother was missing, Hermione thought, forgetting about the conversation at hand for half a second. “I’m just not sure…oh, I don’t know...there’s just so much we don’t know.” 

“We’ll be okay, mum.” Fred threw an arm around his mother’s shoulders and squeezed a bit. “I haven’t known any of us Weasleys not to face a problem head on and not succeed. Why should this be any different?”

Hermione felt a weight lift from her shoulders as Molly sighed in resignation. 

“Well, I suppose we’d better write up an official appeal letter then? We’re going to have a wedding to plan one way or another, and I’d like to have at least some notice.” Molly turned and wrapped Hermione in a tight hug. “I know it’s not official but...of course you know I’ll be thrilled to have you in the family officially.” Hermione hugged her back, finally allowing herself to feel a bit of excitement about the whole thing. 

Arthur laid a supportive hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Of course. Couldn’t ask for a better daughter-in-law than Hermione Granger...Don’t tell the others,” he said with a wink. Hermione couldn’t help but notice that the expression on his face remained cold through his warm sentiments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I don't do author's notes very often, just wanted to pop in and say I hope you're enjoying this story. Please let me know every single one of your thoughts. I appreciate you for giving me a chance in reading this. Thank you so much! <3


	7. Chapter 7

“It’s not right! You haven’t heard them whispering amongst each other, even Harry and Ginny...they’re content with their assignment but the means of getting there? The Ministry is robbing so them of so many memories, relationships...of their right to choose their own happiness!” 

“I know, Molly, but what can we do? They haven’t got much of a choice, have they? The war is over but that doesn’t mean the Ministry has loosened up at all. Still a bunch of big-headed, self-proclaimed saviors in the higher-ups there.”

“Ron and Charlie have both been pretending to be okay with it, but I know they’re not thrilled! I’m their mother! I can see it in their faces, Arthur, the way they talk about it. They won’t be happy like this, they’ll never be happy.”

“They’ve accepted the fact that there’s nothing they can do, unless they want to face consequences from the Ministry.” 

“And you have too? Accepted the idea that there’s nothing we can do?”

“What other solution is there?!”

There was silence for a moment as Mrs. Weasley collected her thoughts. She didn't have a better solution. “And you don’t think Fred and Hermione should...”

“No, I don’t.”

“You don’t think they should even try for happiness? Even if they’re just trying to make the best of the situation as friends, I’d still rather them be together than with their assignments! At least then they’ll both know what they’re getting into!”

“I think Fred might be in over his head on this one. You know how the twins get sometimes, Molly! They get an idea in their head and they’re sure they’re invincible, their plans foolproof. I just see too many ways this could go badly for him. And for Hermione, for that matter.” 

“Well, I don’t. He’s saying it’s just so he doesn’t have to marry Lavender but the way he looks at Hermione...oh, I don’t know. It reminds me of the way you looked at me when we were kids. Even if Fred doesn’t realize it yet, Hermione will be good for him. And him for her. They’ve grown up together, been through a war together, and they’ve practically been inseparable around here since. I don’t know if Hermione has noticed either, but the two of them are better than any match the Ministry has assigned to the rest of them, if you ask me.”

Hermione pressed her ear as close to the door of the Weasley parents' bedroom as she could get it, trying to gather as much information as she could. She hadn’t meant to listen in on as much of their private conversation as she had. A break from her research on reverse obliviation was all she’d been trying to achieve when she decided to head downstairs after the sun had set and everyone had retired to their rooms. A walk around the land surrounding the Burrow always seemed to relax her in a way that she couldn’t achieve anywhere else. But when she happened to overhear the word marriage as she crept past their door, she couldn’t help but listen to see if they’d been talking about her arrangement with Fred. 

She was pleasantly surprised by the position Molly had taken, not expecting the woman to be so confident in the situation. It seemed as though she’d been holding back in their conversation earlier, leaning more towards Arthur’s side when they were actually in the presence of Fred and Hermione. Arthur’s current stance, however, made sense with what he’d ben saying earlier in the evening. He’d practically told them as much that night after dinner already, advising them against making an appeal with the Ministry. He’d done his fatherly duty by feigning his support for their idea when they insisted on appealing, but it had been obvious to Hermione that he wasn’t as confident in the whole thing as his wife. His apprehensions weren’t unfounded, Hermione reminded herself. Nobody had any idea what the Ministry appeals would look like, what would happen if they were to fail. And it was entirely possible that she was simply setting herself up for heartbreak if she and Fred were to actually make a decent relationship for themselves, only to be torn apart by the law regardless.

“Hearing anything interesting?” A new, much closer voice broke Hermione out of the trance she’d been in while listening to her future in-laws. Hermione jumped back with a start, stumbling and tripping on the way. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her, breaking her fall before she could hit the floor. She hadn't heard the footsteps approaching behind her as she'd been too focused on trying to listen intently.

“Fred!” she half whispered, half yelled, trying to maintain a sense of composure as she looked up into the eyes of the man who had crept up behind her. If she could hear the conversation on the other side of the door, surely they’d be able to hear her as well if she were to speak any louder.

“Hermione!” he shot back, imitating her tone.

“What are you doing down here?” She removed herself from Fred’s arms and took a step back to look directly at him. 

“I could ask you the same,” he said, holding back a chuckle. “What are you doing down here, eavesdropping on my parents?” He paused. “Actually, I wouldn’t call that eavesdropping. That there was more just blatant listening. No hiding about it.” 

“I didn’t mean to. Really! I came down for a break and happened to overhear some bits. Any rational person would be curious...” She could hardly control the speed of words coming out of her mouth, her panic at being caught causing her to speak so quickly it was almost indecipherable. 

Fred raised an eyebrow. “Which again, begs the question...anything interesting?” he asked. 

“No! Er...not particularly…I--I didn’t hear anything. I told you, I was just passing by.” 

"Ah yes, very believable Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor for your bravery. Very bold of you to come up with such a brilliant lie expecting me to believe it. And so quickly too!” She sighed. 

“They’re talking about the law. The marriage law,” Hermione admitted. Fred’s expression changed slightly.

“Can we move this conversation elsewhere? I don’t want to be eavesdropped on...or blatantly listened to for that matter.” He looked uncomfortable, glancing at the door more than once as he spoke.

"That would be ideal. I’d like to continue our conversation from before dinner too, regarding a certain someone's betrothed." She raised an eyebrow at Fred, daring him to go back on his promise to speak with her more about Lavender. He grimaced a bit, but didn’t reject her suggestion.

“Right. That too. C’mon.” Fred took the lead through the house to the back door, stepping outside into the chilly autumn night. 

“Fred, it’s cold out!” she protested. “Can’t we just go upstairs?”

“It’s not cold, it's August. You’re just wearing pajamas already." He shrugged out of the sweatshirt he was wearing, a grey crew neck emblazoned with the words Gryffindor Quidditch in a worn-down crimson font on the front, leaving him in just a t-shirt. He passed it to Hermione. “Here, wear this. Might not be the best fit, but it’ll do.”

She slipped the sweatshirt over her head, mumbling a quiet thank you. It was huge on her--the sleeves hung down past her fingers, the torso falling nearly halfway down her thighs. 

"Looks better on you than it does on me," Fred mused at the sight of her in his clothing. A smirk played on his face as he looked Hermione up and down. She quite liked the way it fit, though she was sure it looked ridiculous--Fred was just trying to be nice. But it was comfortable, and the fabric was still warm from having been on his body just a moment ago. She wrapped her arms around herself and followed Fred out the door, content with the compromise. 

"Anyway, we aren’t staying out here," Fred said after they'd gotten several steps away from the house. "George took Verity out tonight, so nobody’s at the flat to pull a  _ you  _ on us and listen in. We just have to apparate from somewhere a little less conspicuous. Don't want to wake up the whole family in the process.”

“The flat?” Hermione suddenly felt nervous. Being alone with Fred was one thing. Being alone with Fred in his flat...they hadn’t discussed any physical boundaries yet. She didn’t know if he was inviting her over just to talk, or if he’d had other plans for her while they were alone. Fred had had a reputation at Hogwarts of being quite the flirt, she remembered, though she couldn't remember a single instance of seeing him actually date any of the girls at school. He'd kissed Angelina in the common room after a Quidditch match on an occasion or two, but she'd never seen the two of them spend any time together outside of matches or celebrations. Hermione loathed the idea of admitting her lack of experience to Fred. It would have to come up eventually, she knew, but that wouldn’t stop her from procrastinating it as much as she could. 

“Yes, the flat. You know, the place I live when I’m not being held captive here, above the shop I own with my twin brother, in Diagon Alley where all the rest of the shops are...sound familiar?”

“Very funny,” she said impassively. 

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she mumbled and grabbed on to Fred's arm. Hermione squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’ve never been here," Hermione thought aloud. The flat was nicer than she'd anticipated if she was being honest. The furniture was nearly brand new still, walls painted a deep burgundy color that suited the twins well. The space had a familiar quirkiness that resembled the feeling of the Burrow mixed with the Gryffindor common room. It felt comfortable, like home. 

“I s’pose you haven’t, have you? Shall I give you the full tour?” He gestured broadly around the room. “First stop. Living room.” 

“Is it really, now? Thank you, Fred, I wasn't sure.”

“Is that sarcasm I’m sensing, Granger? Have I started to rub off on you that quickly?”

"Oh no, it can't be from you. I must be getting it from George. Didn't he mention all the time we spent together while you were out cold? I'm surprised it wasn't him that asked me to marry him, really." She smirked, satisfied with her response.

"Now you're just trying to make me jealous, hm?" 

"That depends. Is it working?" Hermione surprised herself with the boldness in which she was speaking. Being alone with Fred in his flat should be terrifying. But instead she felt...empowered. She was ready to take control of the situation. 

"Very much so,” Fred said, taking a step towards Hermione, glancing at her lips. His eyes had darkened and he reached a hand up to her face, stroking his thumb across her bottom lip. The skin of his hand was rough from years of Quidditch, but Hermione didn't mind the way it felt against her skin. He leaned in close to her, his warm breath sending goosebumps across her body. She tilted her chin up slightly, angling it towards his face. He was just short of a foot taller than her, making it nearly impossible for her to close the distance between them herself even if she'd wanted to. He brought his lips down towards hers, pausing as he got within an inch of them. He turned his head slowly, positioning himself so he was right beside her ear. "Or, should I say, you would be making me jealous..." he murmured. "...If I didn't know you were lying." He stepped back to the spot he'd been in a moment ago, laughing as Hermione's expression changed from anticipation to frustration. "No need to frown at me--if you wanted me to kiss you all you had to do was ask," he said with a wink, practically reading her mind. He grabbed her hand swiftly and began to lead her into the next room. Hermione was stunned into silence. "But you’ve missed your window of opportunity this time I’m afraid. Now we have to finish the tour."

"Hmph," Hermione pouted, but didn't argue. She was thrown off by the way he had been able to catch her so off guard. The boldness she’d been feeling a moment ago had vanished, replaced with a desire for vengeance. 

Fred led her through the kitchen, the hall bathroom, a spare bedroom they used as an office for the paperwork side of running the shop. He opened every cabinet and drawer, pointing out the most mundane items in each one as though they were the most interesting objects in the world. Hermione went along with his bit, pretending to be invested in every word he said about the cotton balls under the sink, the glasses they kept on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet that they only used when they had guests over. She asked detailed questions about every item with just as much enthusiasm as he presented them with. As much as Fred tried to keep a straight face, the longer their tour went on, the goofier the pair became. They were both laughing hysterically without being able to remember what exactly was so funny to begin with. 

He even let her peek into George's bedroom if she promised she'd never tell him, making sure to point out the Holyhead Harpies posters on his twin's walls and making fun of him for not being a Chudley Cannons supporter. He had a story to tell for each room a memory to recount for every last one. Even the linen closet had a memory attached to it. 

“Our first night here, we'd decided to go out and celebrate being free from the confines of the educational system...and Umbridge." He gave a dramatic shudder for show. "But everyone we'd normally celebrate with was either still at Hogwarts or would tell our mum and dad they’d seen us out before we got the chance to fill them in--we knew mum wouldn't hesitate to give us the ol' avada kedavra if she found out that we'd abandoned Hogwarts and she didn't even hear it from us. So we managed to bribe Tom down at the Leaky Cauldron to sell us each our own bottle of firewhiskey and not make a scene of it. And these were no pints, mind you. Full sized bottles, we got. We brought the bottles back here and drank them down to the last drop before the sun had even set all the way. Somehow I managed to end up in my bed—Merlin knows how I got there—but when I came out of my room in the morning, Georgie boy was asleep in this very closet. He had three or four towels wrapped around him like blankets." Hermione had tears in her eyes by this point from laughing so hard, and Fred's story was interrupted throughout his telling, by his own fits of giggling that he couldn't control. If anyone had walked in, they'd have thought Fred and Hermione had helped themselves to a bit too much firewhiskey. 

Eventually, there was only one room left they hadn't explored on their tour. Fred had sailed breezily past the final door, pretending it didn't exist, and headed back into the living room. He flopped down onto the couch, patting the spot next to him as he waited for Hermione to join him. 

"You've missed one!" she argued, crossing her arms. She'd been having so much fun with Fred, she wasn't sure she was ready to sit down and get to the real reason they'd come to the flat--she didn't want to talk about Lavender or the marriage law right now. 

"Oh, that one? Boring, really" he said lazily. "Nothing interesting in there, don't worry. Awfully dirty, probably smelly, walls are made of stone, floors of dirt...imagine the Slytherin dungeons, but worse. If you were cold outside earlier, you'd probably get a full on case of hypothermia in there."

"You just don't want me to see your bedroom!” She pretended to gasp in shock.

"Got it in one," Fred admitted. She hadn't expected him to give up quite so easily.

"Why not?"

"It's not so much that I don't want you to see my room per se. Just..." he paused, thinking about his words carefully. He sighed, looking up at Hermione with a serious expression. "Just don't want you to think I'm expecting you to...to go in my bedroom is all."

"Oh." Hermione’s face relaxed in understanding. She was relieved and embarrassed at the same time. "Er...well, I can't pretend it didn't cross my mind. I wasn't sure what you were thinking about it." She made her way across the room and sat on the couch beside him. He placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him, and leaned the side of his head against hers. 

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly. "I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable. I know I can be a bit...forward...with the flirting sometimes. But I don't want to do anything you don't want to do. Even if just cuddling on the couch is something you don't want to do."

Hermione relaxed into him, hoping he’d understand she meant it as a reassurance that this was okay. "No, I do like being close to you. You're quite comfortable," she said and looked up at him with a smile. She took a deep breath. "And I like it when you kiss me," she continued quietly, her face flushing red. She was surprised with herself that she'd been able to admit it out loud to him.

Fred grinned and kissed the top of her head in response. “If I remember correctly, the only time we’ve properly kissed was the time you ambushed me after our date. So technically, you like it when you kiss me."

“Ambushed! If kissing someone who’s brought their face within an inch of yours is ambushing them, I’d be curious to see what it looks like when you’re expecting it!” She turned her face to look up at him as she spoke. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replied smoothly, a familiar mischievous spark in his eye. Hermione only rolled her eyes, giving him a gentle shove. She didn’t want to validate him with a response. He always seemed to know exactly what to say to get her riled up. 

"Regardless...we're still just getting used to this. I don't want to move too quickly. I know we'll be married soon enough and I know what that implies, I just...can we work our way up to that point?"

"Absolutely," he said without hesitation. She relaxed once more, laying her head back down on his chest. 

“Thank you," she said softly. Fred's fingers were intertwined in hers now. She ran her thumb back and forth across the back of his hand mindlessly. "Can I change the subject?"

"Be my guest," he answered nonchalantly.

"Lavender really kissed you? Not the other way around?" Her stomach was in knots as she asked the question. This was the real reason she'd agreed to come over to the flat--she needed more information on what exactly had happened between Fred and Lavender earlier that day. She couldn't get the image of Lavender's arms around Fred's neck out of her mind. 

"Of course. Did you forget so quickly? Hermione, I asked you to marry me. If I wanted Lavender, even the tiniest bit, I would have just stuck with her." Hermione was embarrassed by this. She knew she was being irrational, and everything he had said about it made perfect sense.

"I just got so jealous," she tried to explain. Her heart stopped as she processed the words that had just come out of her mouth. Did she have a right to be jealous over Fred yet? Would he find it odd, think of her as being too possessive too soon? "Or maybe just self-conscious," she corrected quickly. "I'm not really sure. It just didn't feel good to see is all...Did you tell her that you weren’t marrying her?”

“I did.” His voice remained calm, cool, unconcerned. 

“...Did you tell her why?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She fiddled nervously with the hem of Fred's sweatshirt that she was still wearing. 

“I did. Well, sort of. ”

"And?" She fiddled nervously with the hem of Fred's sweatshirt that she was still wearing, not sure if she really wanted to know what Lavender had had to say upon hearing the news.

"Well, I didn't come right out and say I'd rather not marry her specifically. But I did tell her I'd be appealing to marry you instead. She took it about as well as you'd expect. She cried...a lot. Said some nasty things about the both of us. I felt a bit bad for her to be honest. But not enough to feel guilty about my decision. I think she was just shocked, and disappointed, of course. I'm quite the catch, you know. She probably felt like she was the luckiest witch around when she saw my name on her letter." Fred wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, causing Hermione to roll her eyes, but she couldn't help but giggle. "But I think I managed to convince her I'm very confident in the path I've chosen...we have chosen."

Hermione did feel a bit guilty. Not that she had any real doubts about marrying Fred over Cormac, but Lavender would be left high and dry now, stuck without a betrothal. The Ministry would surely reassign her to someone else who's assignment appealed successfully. There was no telling if her new assignment would be any better, or worse for that matter. 

"I have a good feeling about it, too," she assured him, trying to shake the thought of Lavender out of her mind for good. There was nothing she could do about it now. She paid attention to Fred's heart beating clearly in his chest. The sound was comforting.

"Now my turn for a question," Fred said after a moment. "I hope I don't regret asking this and get stuck with a mental image to scar me for the rest of my life but...I'm still curious as to what kind of conversation you were eavesdropping in on earlier."

Hermione had nearly forgotten about that. The idea of pretending she really hadn't been eavesdropping crossed her mind temporarily. "Oh. Right. Well...your parents were just talking about the marriage law. I was just curious to know their unfiltered thoughts on it. Um...your mum said she could tell everyone was unhappy with the law even if they pretended to be okay with it. And she said..." Should she tell him about Mrs. Weasley's insistence that Fred and Hermione were the best suited couple out of all the pairs that hadn't been together prior to the assignments? She decided to withhold that information for herself for the time being--it made her happy to know that Mrs. Weasley had faith in this, that she felt like Hermione and Fred could really work together, but she couldn't shake the feeling that telling Fred would be like jinxing it. "She said that she supported us trying to appeal. She seemed happy about it."

"And dad?"

"Er...he took a bit of a different approach to it all."

"Meaning?" Fred voice was inquisitive, light. He seemed just as relaxed as she had been moments ago, though the change of conversation had brought back a little bit of her tension. 

She had been hoping Fred wouldn’t ask too many questions about what she'd overheard of his father's opinions. She hadn't liked the way Arthur spoke about Fred as if he was still an unruly child. She knew it would bother Fred to hear exactly what Arthur had said. 

"He didn't think we should appeal. He thinks we're going to end up in over our heads. I don't think he meant it in a bad way...I think he's just worried about you--er, us." She decided the best way to go about it was to give only the barest details of the conversation. No need to elaborate more than necessary. 

Fred remained quiet, mulling over this new information. Even still, he didn't appear upset or angry to hear that his father didn't approve of his choice. Finally, after a moment of processing, Fred spoke again. "Looks like we're just going to have to prove him wrong then, aren't we?" 


	8. Chapter 8

The rest of the night went smoothly after conversations about other’s opinions of their impending marriage were out of the way. Neither of them had let the discussions bother them--in fact, they’d come to the conclusion that their own opinions were the only ones that mattered. They were going to be married, whether or not Lavender, or Cormac, or the Ministry, or even Arthur agreed with it. Sure, they’d still attend the appeal and try to do things the proper way...but if their appeal was denied, they’d have to get creative. 

“What’s your middle name?” Hermione asked, holding a quill to a blank piece of parchment. “I feel like I should know this given how many times I’m sure I’ve heard your mother shouting it,” she teased.

“Gideon. It’s mum’s brother’s name. George’s is Fabian. They were twins too,” Fred answered distantly. 

“Okay, Frederick Gideon. How should I start this?”

“How about…’Dear Ministry of Magic. Please let me marry Frederick Gideon Weasley. I refuse to marry Cormac, and if you tell me no, you’ll have to deal with the wrath of Hermione Granger...again.” Fred pretended to write in the air as he spoke, his tone formal. “They can’t say no to that, eh?” He grinned. She couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Right, that’s perfect and I’m sure they’d approve it,” she said, giving him a playful shove. “What about this?” she said and began writing on the page. 

_ To Whom it May Concern: _

_ I, Hermione Jean Granger, request an appeal on the marriage law requirements set before me by the Ministry of Magic. I am engaged to marry Mr. Frederick Gideon Weasley, and request that our engagement take precedence in the eyes of the Ministry. I thank you for your consideration, and happily await a response.  _

She signed her name cleanly at the bottom. The message was simple--she thought it best not to go into too many details before they even got accepted for a hearing. 

“Brilliant. Can you write mine now too?”

“I’ve already come up with the words, all you have to do is write them on the page!” She resisted, holding the quill out to him. 

“Fine, fine,” he said, plucking the quill from her hand and copying down what she’d written out word for word, only flipping the names. “I’ll send these off tomorrow morning with one of our delivery service owls. So if you want to back out, now’s the time to say so.”

“I’m not backing out...unless...are you wanting to back out?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hermione, Hermione, Hermione,” Fred tutted, taking her hands into his and looking her directly in the eyes. “I wouldn’t back out if they offered me a hundred thousand galleons.”

Hermione flushed red, pleased with his answer. She smiled softly and took the two pieces of parchment, placing them in separate envelopes. “Well then, it’s official I suppose. Er...official that we’re trying anyway. They could still say no.”

“If they say no, we’ll run off and have a muggle ceremony somewhere.” 

“Your mum would love that,” Hermione reminded him sarcastically. “Speaking of, we should probably head back to the Burrow,” she continued as she glanced out the window at the dark sky. It was getting close to midnight and she knew if both she and Fred were missing, someone was bound to notice. She didn’t want to overstay her welcome at the flat--George would be back at any minute, and who knew whether Verity would be with him. If that were the case, they’d probably prefer Fred and Hermione not be there. 

“So soon?” Fred replied. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. But they’ll only notice if we don’t show up by breakfastime and I planned on sticking around here a bit longer. I’m getting a bit tired of being mum’s project of the week. And you didn’t even let me offer you a glass of wine yet,” he said enticingly, standing from the couch and heading to the kitchen before Hermione could respond. “Do you prefer white or red?”

She considered her options. She  _ was _ having a very nice time with Fred and a glass of wine didn’t sound bad either. “White,” she called back to him after deciding that just a little bit longer wouldn’t hurt. “But just one glass!”

“Right, one glass. That’s a fair compromise.” He returned with a glass in each hand, the bottle charmed to float in behind him. “Just in case you change your mind,” he said with a wink and plucked the bottle from the air after handing one of the glasses to Hermione. They were filled nearly to the brim, hardly what anyone would call just  _ one  _ glass of wine. She rolled her eyes but smiled at him. 

“We’ll see about that.” She took a sip, enjoying the cold sweetness of the liquid on her tongue. She’d relaxed considerably since they first arrived at the flat, having gotten the more unpleasant conversations out of the way earlier. This was the perfect opportunity to learn the deeper parts of Fred, things the Ministry may or may not ask about, but would be good to know about one’s future spouse in any case. Hermione knew Fred but she didn’t  _ know _ him yet. Not in the way she knew Harry or Ron or Ginny.

“When was the last time you cried?” she asked suddenly. Fred nearly choked on his wine at the unexpected question, laughing at the bluntness with which she spoke.

“Merlin, I didn’t know that was what I was in for when I said we should stick around here,” he said after a few coughs.

“Mm, you’re right. I probably could have started with an easier one. I’m just wondering what kind of things the Ministry is going to ask us about in our appeal. I thought we could do a round of twenty questions to start preparing.”

“We haven’t even sent in our appeal requests yet and you’re already preparing. You’re the most Ravenclaw-like Gryffindor I’ve ever met, honestly,” he said while giving her a poke in the side. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s impressive,” he clarified. 

“Fine then, what’s your favorite color?” she asked, trying to start them off with something a little bit easier.

“Pale blue. The color of the sky on a nice day--makes me think of flying around the Quidditch pitch. Do you think you’ll find to your parents?”

Hermione hesitated. A lump in her throat started to grow thinking about how to answer. “I thought we were going easy to start,” she said, her voice quivering a bit. “But yes, I do think I’ll find them. Whether I can reverse the memory charm is another thing.”

Fred remained quiet for a moment, as if he was waiting to make sure he didn’t interrupt if she had more to say on the subject. “I believe in you,” he said, finally. “If I can do anything to help, just say the word and you know I’ll be right there.” 

Hermione smiled sadly. “Thank you,” she said. It felt nice to hear from someone, but it didn’t necessarily make her feel better about her odds. She’d been purposely avoiding asking anyone for help—this was her mess, and her mess alone. She’d caused this, and she needed to be the one to fix it. “I appreciate that, I really do, Fred.” 

As if he could sense that she was ready to move on, Fred continued asking the majority of the questions and answering them for himself as well after Hermione had given her answer. After a few more rounds, Hermione had long forgotten about her plans to return to the Burrow. It turned out Fred had had better foresight than her. Their first bottle of wine was finished in much less than an hour and they’d just finished off a second. They were both beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol in their system—well, Hermione was at least. It was obvious that this wasn't Fred's first time drinking...or his second time...or third time. Hermione sipped her drink slowly--she wasn’t particularly enjoying the constant heat she was beginning to feel in her cheeks. By the time they'd both had a few, she had to admit she was slightly embarrassed by how tipsy she felt compared to the way Fred was acting. If he'd felt any buzz, he was doing an excellent job of hiding it.

"How you feeling, 'Mione?"

"I'm good," she murmured dreamily. Her eyes were closed and a small smile rested on her face. She was swaying a bit, though she told herself it was simply because she was getting sleepy...not because of anything she'd had to drink. "Thanks for the wine...it's very yummy," she added as an afterthought. Fred chuckled.

“You’re very welcome,” he said, placing a hand on her thigh. The light pressure was nice. 

“You have nice lips,” Hermione said without thinking. She’d been studying his face—the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the sharp curve of his jaw, and his lips, of course, were especially enticing. 

“Look who‘s talking,” he replied, glancing down at her mouth. Hermione felt breathless at his gaze. She began to lean closer to him, moving slowly so as to make her advance subtle. 

“Maybe, but yours are  _ very _ nice.” His hand remained on her thigh, and she placed hers on top of his. He didn’t reply this time, his eyes still focused on her lips. It seemed that he, too, was now inching closer and closer to her, moving so cautiously that it was almost impossible to notice. The tension between them was electric. Their noses brushed against each other, but neither made a further move, neither wanting to be the one who broke the anticipation. “You said earlier...if I wanted you to kiss me, I just had to ask,” Hermione breathed, moving her arm up and around his neck. 

“I haven’t heard you ask,” he teased in reply. 

“Fred…”

“Yes?” he asked, feigning innocence. He backed away from her, just a bit, and looked into her eyes. The mischievous smile on his face was making him all the more difficult to resist. She was slightly embarrassed to say the words, to ask him to kiss her, but it didn’t seem like he was going to let her off the hook that easily. 

“Don’t make me beg,” she insisted, looking up at him through her eyelashes. This was a battle she wasn’t going to lose...at least not  _ that _ quickly.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Fred asked playfully as reached a hand up to cup her jaw, running his thumb across her cheek and looking deeply into her eyes. He ran his lips softly up behind her ear and down to her collarbone, taking care to slowly and deliberately plant each one in a way that made Hermione’s heart race. Her breath hitched in her throat as he moved to kiss along her jawline, still choosing to ignore her lips as she had yet to say the words. Hermione laid a hand on his thigh, squeezing gently with each kiss he laid. He brought his lips back to her ear and whispered, “All you have to do is ask, remember?” She felt a shiver down her spine at the feeling of his warm breath on her skin. 

“Kiss me, Fred. Please,” she whispered. No sooner than she’d said the words did his lips crash against hers, desperately yet cautiously at the same time. The tip of his tongue traced her bottom lip, sending a shiver down her spine. Her mind, once foggy from the wine, was now clear and alert. Aware of every cell in her body, she grasped his hair in one hand and his shoulders in the other, trying to pull him as close to her as she possibly could. It felt as though their bodies might fuse together, the fluidity with which they moved simultaneously around one another felt so natural. 

After several minutes, Fred pulled back and placed a soft kiss on her nose, then her forehead. He smiled softly and leaned back into the couch. Hermione felt her expression change to confusion. She leaned towards him again, trying to reignite the kiss. She hadn’t been ready for it to end so quickly.

“Hermione,” he said softly, putting both of his hands on either of her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. “We’ve had quite a bit to drink, yeah? Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to keep snogging you senseless…” he paused, giving her one more soft kiss and cupping her jaw in his hand again. “But I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret anything. Or worse, not remember.” 

Hermione crossed her arms and pouted. Still feeling a little more than tipsy, she couldn’t help but make her disappointment known. Yet in the back of her mind, she knew she’d be grateful in the morning. “Right,” she agreed, trying not to let herself sound too desperate. “No, you’re right.” She sat up and moved away from Fred. 

“It’s really late,” Fred noted. “If you want to just stay here...I think we’d make more of a scene going back now than if we just wait. You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep out here.”

Hermione let out a deep yawn. Fred reached towards her and pulled her into his arms. She laid her head on his chest, enjoying the warmth he was radiating. “C’mon, sleepyhead,” he said. 

“Mmm, I think I’ll stay here,” she murmured into his chest. Drowsiness was setting in quickly. “Yes, I’ll sleep here. You can sleep…... wherever,” she mumbled lazily, yawning again. Fred’s chest moved up and down as he chuckled softly. She glanced up at his face to see his eyes closed. He gave her a squeeze before yawning as well. 

“If you say so,” he said softly and moved to stretch his long legs out on the couch, assisting Hermione so she would do the same. It felt nice cuddling Fred, she though, before drifting off into one of the best nights of sleep she’d had in quite some time.

\------------------------------------------------

“Don’t you all look cozy. Mind if I cuddle up?” George’s voice awoke them both with a start, both in a bit of a daze trying to figure out where they were and how they’d gotten there. Memories of the previous night began to return slowly, followed by a pounding in Hermione’s head.

“Bugger off,” Fred groaned, releasing his grip on Hermione and sitting up straight. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked towards the window that now had sunlight glaring through it. “What time is it?”

“Just past seven,” George answered cheerily. “Better get a move on, both of you. Shop opens up in less than an hour. I can’t have two employees calling in ‘sick’ on the same day,” he said, eyeing the empty bottles on the coffee table. “And I reckon you’ll both be fine in a few hours anyway.”

Hermione’s headache was brutal, her stomach churning. She sat up slowly, but the room still spun a bit as she moved. “Remind me never to drink with your brother again,” she mumbled at George. “And could you keep your voice down a bit?” Hermione rubbed her temples, hoping to ease some of the tension in her head. 

“I was expecting more of a  _ thank you George, for the nice blanket you brought us when you came home and saw us passed out on the couch and for the glasses of water you brought for us to drink before work _ , but I suppose the sentiment is close enough. Now, c’mon, lots of work to be done today!” George grinned and flicked his wand in their direction, simultaneously ripping the blanket away and vanishing the wine glasses. 

The pair groaned but stood up reluctantly. 

“On second thought, I quit.” Hermione attempted and began to sit back down on the couch. 

“Oh no, you’re not getting out that easily. If I have to go, so do you.” The twins both grabbed one of her arms and pulled her up. 

“C’mon now, you spent nearly a year on the run with the boy who lived, a little hangover won’t kill you,” George teased. 

Hermione only groaned in response. It was going to be a long day. 

  
  
  



End file.
